


say your piece (or let her free)

by Vilna



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Emotional Constipation, F/F, First Time, Porn with Feelings, bisexual detective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:46:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26495851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vilna/pseuds/Vilna
Summary: She absolutely never had any intention of anyone else outside of Tina to find out about Bobby and the stupid kiss they shared when she was exhausted and fragile and maybe, just maybe, even a little heartbroken. Vesper was supposed to try her best to forget about the unfortunate incident and be buried with the knowledge that she ever let Bobby touch her again.No one was supposed to know. She was exceedingly careful.
Relationships: Female Detective/Ava du Mortain
Comments: 8
Kudos: 53





	say your piece (or let her free)

**Author's Note:**

> H-hello? I played Wayhaven a few months back and I'm really gay so I have wanted to write something about Ava forever...... but writing for new fandoms is hard & scary so it took me some time to finally do it. After the carnival, my detective, Vesper, kissed Bobby (eww) because she was hurt about the overheard conversation where Ava basically hardcore denies her feelings for the MC. I'm really hoping it will come up in the book 3, but for now I'm just happily writing my own version of the aftermath.
> 
> I'm aware of the possible liberties I took with Ava's characterisation, but I'm kind of tired worrying over this fic so I'm just going to yeet this into the world & go hide for a thousand years!!! Kudos & comments are wonderful as always. ♥
> 
> (there's a really, really tiny spoiler about the book 3 demo, but it's literally just half a sentence.)

Vesper Graves is not a particularly patient woman.

She's too impulsive, too frustrated, too quick to change her mind and definitely too short-tempered to wait for nothing and no one. She has never needed or wanted to for that matter, because usually her force of will is strong enough for her to get whatever she desires.

Yet, she is painfully aware: kissing Bobby was a bad decision.

No, more like a bad choice. He always was, right from the beginning, but now Vesper feels the consequences of her actions more than ever. This was a regretful mistake she has no intention of repeating-- the old salt doesn't make her thirsty, it just makes her feel like the worst kind of fool.

And it's an admission Vesper can give freely. Even if it's hard, even if it makes her sound like a massive fucking _tart_.

She has no other excuse than being deeply in love with a woman who barely seems to stand Vesper and her entire damn existence most of the time. It was a regretful action, yes, but it's not as if anyone other than Vesper herself will care enough to give a damn about her terrifyingly bad impulse control.

But still: it's been over a month since then and the guilt continues to eat her alive whenever she even turns to look at Ava who already makes her feel so pathetic she almost wants to cry aloud-- just to try to find a way to feel better about everything that is or isn't. 

Idiotic, Vesper tells herself now. She absolutely never had any intention of anyone else outside of Tina to find out about Bobby and the stupid kiss they shared when she was exhausted and fragile and maybe, just maybe, even a little heartbroken. Vesper was supposed to try her best to forget about the unfortunate incident and be buried with the knowledge that she ever let Bobby touch her again.

No one was supposed to know. She was exceedingly careful.

So, she has absolutely no clue how _Ava_ of all people found out about it.

Yet here she is, Ava du Mortain, standing in front of Vesper, leaning onto her kitchen counter and avoiding eye contact at all costs. She looks as attractive as she always does, dressed in a light grey henley and comfortable and soft looking pair of jeans which has clearly been used only once or twice. The always so strict bun of blonde hair has loosened during the long day into something more artfully messy and endearing. 

And now she has Vesper gaping by asking whether it's true that she and Bobby are _courting_ again. The only words in Vesper's mind are a loop of what the fuck.

"Jesus Christ, Ava," Vesper says, her eyes wide with surprise and the cup of coffee she's holding barely grazing her red painted lips.

For a moment it’s so quiet that the only sound Vesper can hear is the orchestra of particularly vocal crickets outside her open window and the distant sound of someone listening to Britney Spears a few apartments over.

Ava's brow arches, just slightly, and she shifts on her feet, arms folded tightly against her chest. Vesper is still not able to see the true emotion through her blank expressions; Ava is too skilled at masking her feelings in moments like these. But her mouth is in a stern line and cheeks just slightly flushed. Vesper isn't sure if she only imagines the flicker of hurt on the corner of her lips when they purse together.

Vesper takes a long pause for breath, counts to ten slowly and methodically. The night's cool air sneaking in through the ajar window makes her shiver, so she tucks her cold legs underneath her oversized sweater and clings to her cup of late-night mocha like a lifeline. 

She has no idea where to even begin and she definitely has no idea what to say.

"Who the hell gave you that idea?" Vesper ends up asking first. The question, of course, comes out too harshly and accusingly, making her immediately sound like she has something to hide. Which is technically not even true, because Ava and her are not in a relationship so she doesn't need to know about the time Vesper kissed her asshole ex after Ava unknowingly hurt her feelings.

No, don’t be too defensive, Vesper tells herself. Don’t let Ava know she caught you off guard. Don’t panic, neither of you owe each other anything.

She clears her throat, suddenly exceedingly thirsty, but the only choice is to drink more of her coffee which unsurprisingly doesn’t help to calm her nerves at all.

Ava swallows and seems to consider her words carefully, before saying, "I… I have heard you… shared an intimate moment together."

Vesper stares at her and blinks. "An intimate moment," she repeats, the words deliberately slow as she spends a moment to let it sink in. The word intimate and Bobby definitely don’t belong even in the same sentence, just the thought of sharing anything the like with him makes Vesper want to throw up.

Ava hesitates and opens her mouth but ends up only nodding voicelessly. Vesper can't help a snort and that is what makes Ava visibly frown.

"Where on earth did you hear about this in the first place?" Vesper finally scoffs and shreds off a large piece of her half-eaten chocolate muffin before pushing it between her lips and chewing as slowly as she can. She’s not nervous. She isn’t.

Ava looks strangely uncomfortable by the question and Vesper's completely aware why she starts to feel annoyed beyond imagining right now. Why does Ava even care? She has avoided Vesper for an entire _month_ straight and she's pretty sure that the only reason Ava is in her apartment right now is because the stupid bounty requires her to have a constant bodyguard again.

At least the rest of the Unit Bravo are not witnessing this humiliating conversation which was never supposed to happen in the first place.

"There was a rumour," Ava answers, making Vesper's left eyebrow lift up in inquiry. Ava clears her throat, her hands disappearing behind her back, her body flexing at the apparent effort of keeping herself still. "Around the station."

Ah, Tina. Vesper loves her dearly, but she’s admittedly not the best at keeping secrets like this. Way too juicy not to share with a few someones which probably incidentally lead to _a lot of_ someones finding out about it. 

Damn.

"A rumour, hm?” Vesper taps her lips with her forefinger as she tries to buy herself just a little bit more time. Not that she has any idea how this conversation will continue as she wasn't planning on having it at all.

“I didn't take you for a gossip monger, Agent du Mortain," she finally says and grins as plausibly as she can. But the reality is that some mischievous part of her can't deny being a tiny bit amused (as well as irritated) by all of this. 

Irony is one of the things she can truly appreciate in life, even if Vesper never expected Ava to bring up the subject of Bobby this casually in a conversation.

Though, there's absolutely nothing casual about the tension that is slowly filling the air of the kitchen with its heaviness. 

Ava fidgets on her feet again, something Vesper hasn’t seen her do particularly often. She almost never appears nervous or uncertain. But now, for once, Ava seems to be fumbling forward blindly without any kind of plan or an escape route. And that is what clearly makes her feel as uneasy as Vesper about this.

"Usually I am not," she admits, obviously unwillingly, and clears her throat. Her hands are squeezing the corner of the kitchen counter so hard, her knuckles have turned white with the effort.

"But I assure you my interest is purely professional," she continues but somehow the retort sounds a lot like a lie despite not any emotion shining through. Further yet, the next thing she says makes her face go completely blank as if she couldn't care less about the matter of the subject. "I wish to know if this… relationship will affect your efficiency in the field."

Of course she does, Vesper thinks, not all bitterly. She bites down on her lower lip. After 900 years time to learn, one would think she had become a better liar.

Ava doesn't say anything else so Vesper just sighs and sips her now lukewarm coffee, trying not to do something incredibly ridiculous like start a fight or, worse, cry.

_For God’s sake, get it together, Graves._

“Don’t worry,” Vesper says and rolls her eyes.

A small part of her can't help but try to tease and poke Ava by neither confirming nor denying anything. “It definitely won’t. I can keep my personal and work life separate, you don’t need to worry over me. Not that this is even _remotely_ your business in the first place, Ava.”

The words are only as sharp as a dull razor and they don’t even make Ava openly flinch. Vesper can’t be sure if she only imagines the brief hue of hurt in her emerald eyes and it's gone a second later, anyway, when her jaw flexes. Ava takes a step towards the table where Vesper is sitting, hands clenched into fists, shoulders stiff like they could endure anything.

"Isn't it?" she almost hisses and has the gall to actually scowl down at Vesper like she somehow has the right to object.

This is when Vesper stands up from her chair and closes the distance between them. Slowly, so slowly that she’s barely even aware she’s moving before they’re only a few inches apart.

Vesper is considerably shorter than Ava and it has always annoyed her beyond reason because she detests being the underdog in anything. But now she lifts her chin and folds her skinny arms, crowding Ava’s personal space without remorse.

She won’t back away again. Not now. Not before she will have some answers from this infuriatingly stubborn woman in front of her. Not before she can get some sort of closure.

"You tell me," Vesper challenges with narrowed eyes.

She is positively certain that Ava will storm out of her apartment and this will be just another memory they will never speak again. But instead the stubbornness in her eyes softens to something impossibly… tender. Something so gentle Vesper has never seen Ava express before.

And it jails her breath inside her throat for a 

few... long... seconds. Vesper blinks.

Neither of them say anything and the moment stretches like an elastic band-- the quietness awkward but so intense both of them can feel it all the way behind their teeth.

Vesper bites her lower lip before closing her eyes and leaning in, just a little, enough to let her remember the heat of Ava's body later when she's left alone and rejected again.

"Ava…" Vesper murmurs quietly. Suddenly she's so tired, so exhausted at standing behind the line neither of them is courageous enough to cross. She sighs and tucks a few of her escaped overgrown hair strands behind her ear. She should get a haircut soon.

Vesper kind of feels like a fish on dry land, so out of her element she feels like she’s out of breath and close to passing out.

But in the end, this is the most important inquiry, the one answer they have both bled so much for: "Why do you even care so much?"

About Vesper's life, about her relationships. About her safety and comfort. About her affections.

 _Tu omnia_ , Ava said when she was vulnerable and honest. Vesper loves her but will it ever mean anything in the long run?

"I…" Ava starts. Clears her strangled throat. Pauses. And then, finally-- _finally_ ends up being truthful at last: "I suppose I am worried."

"For what?" Vesper whispers. The question is a kind one. There's something aching to cruel hope beating underneath her ribcage, still not extinguished after months of abuse and neglect.

Yet Vesper knows: nothing has ever hurt so much than Ava constantly pushing her away.

"You are an incredibly smart woman, detective. Surely you have figured out why by now," Ava murmurs, her voice rough and stupidly attractive. 

And then she hesitantly cups Vesper's jaw in her strong palm, searching Vesper’s eyes before tracing the apple of her cheek with a calloused thumb. It's so gentle it's barely a touch at all. Vesper will never feel like this with anyone else.

"No, I haven't, actually," Vesper answers. She’s honest if also resentful. "You don't let me even have a chance to try to understand or know you."

"I know and I am sorry,” Ava says quietly, leaning down to brush her nose against Vesper’s own, nudging it gently with her own. Neither of them dare to close their eyes. When Ava speaks, there’s so much regret in her voice, it’s rigid with it. “This is… difficult for me.”

And that, of course, is the true and largest problem in all of this.

Ava licks her dry-looking lips and Vesper’s eyes automatically follow the movement. Even if they will never become anything more, this will not be the last moment when Vesper wonders what it would be like to kiss her.

“It’s not like this is easy for me, either,” Vesper says quietly and means it from the bottom of her injured heart. It’s been so long since she’s cared about another person like this-- this wholly and cosmically. She would do anything for Ava du Mortain without questions asked or answered and that is...

it’s fucking terrifying, to be honest. Imagine, just for a moment, of being so in love with someone, you don't know what's excusable and beyond reason anymore.

Vesper tries to smile because more than anything, she wants to touch Ava in return, touch the sharp contours of her face, brush away the pained frown on her mouth. But she’s still not sure whether it would be even welcome-- whether that would only push her further away or be the thing that would finally break everything they are to even smaller pieces.

In moments such as these, Vesper has always felt so ridiculously alone.

Her thoughts linger in an impasse. Is telling the truth or having closure ever worth the aftermath of pain? Isn’t it so messed up that she doesn’t even know the answer to that? Then again she never did like gambling at her own expense.

But maybe some truths, however painful, are preferable to senseless hope.

“Look, Ava,” Vesper starts and takes a deep breath. Rebecca may not have been the world’s best mother but one of the things she taught Vesper was to always be brave even against crushing odds.

 _All or nothing_ , she thinks before opening her mouth to let out nothing but the truth.

“I care about you,” Vesper murmurs softly, uncertainly, peering up at Ava underneath her long, extended eyelashes. They’re standing so close to each other, she can smell every sweet flavour of the perfume Ava has started using recently. It’s nice, even attractive.

It only serves Ava letting her hands droop away from Vesper's face and Vesper tries not to think of that as a bad sign, though it most definitely is. 

She resists the urge to rub her neck before continuing: “I care about you a lot.” 

She clears her throat. Christ, but this is hard. “You mean so much to me, Ava, and I _know_ you know that, too. You know that I like you because I’m really rubbish at hiding it and I don't even want to, anymore.”

Ava doesn’t say anything so Vesper soldiers on despite her gut warning her not to wade any deeper: “The biggest issue we, or you know, mostly just me, have is that I have no way of knowing if there’s even a tiny chance of you feeling the same. Sometimes it feels like you love me and other times you act like you don’t give a fuck what happens to me.”

“Vesper…” Ava pleads, sounding so damn distressed, it’s kind of thrilling, but the other woman only shakes her head and raises her hand to stop Ava from talking any further. She needs to say this-- she needs to let it out, once and for all.

“And that hurts a lot, Ava. It hurts not to know where we stand. So please, be honest with me,” Vesper begs, the words an aching request long overdue. 

She’s faintly aware that her cheeks are damp and eyes wet but for once she doesn’t care about someone seeing her laid bare like this. She feels as if she's an open book ready to be read.

Because finally being honest like this doesn’t make her suddenly weak. It never has. And isn't that a curious a revelation to have in a moment like this.

“Just this once,” Vesper whispers. Her fingers rise to trace a journey across the slope of Ava’s brow to her temple, the last indulgence she will allow herself tonight. 

And through it all, Ava stares at her like she’s only now seeing her truly for the first time. 

“And if you say no... if you say you don’t want me…" 

A deep breath, she can do this. Just say it, Graves. "Then I won’t ask anything of you ever again. I promise.”

Vesper closes her eyes and lets her head drop towards the floor. Her heart is practically shrieking with anxiety inside her chest, because Vesper has never been this fucking nervous in her whole life. 

Yet, she doesn’t want to take the words back. She couldn’t do that to herself... or Ava.

Because this conversation was inevitable. All of this has been a long time coming and both of them know it.

Vesper isn’t sure how much time passes, how long they stand in each other’s orbit, almost chest to chest, without either of them saying or doing anything.

“... Ava?” Vesper finally asks and takes a small step backwards, hitting the sharp corner of the kitchen table with her hip and wincing.

Shit. She fucked up so bad, didn’t she?

Vesper is ready to flee, one foot practically already out of the door, but then Ava grips her waist and pulls her even closer than they already are and presses their lips together.

Oh, but there’s something impossibly desperate and gentle in the way Ava du Mortain pushes her roughened knuckles under Vesper Graves’s chin and lifts it up to kiss her for the very first time.

Imagine being touched like this after what feels like a lifetime of longing. It’s the most affectionate and loving thing she has ever felt; a fierce but harmless tornado full of emotion and desire and adoration so profound, it makes her choke with its genuineness. 

It’s so much and too little at the same time for Ava is a careful and polite kisser, willing to explore but with a steady pace. 

There’s not too much tongue and definitely no biting which is on itself kind of disappointing if one dares to admit it. The kiss is maddening… and utterly what Vesper imagined kissing Ava du Mortain would be like.

Vesper giggles happily into Ava’s mouth at the thought, cups Ava’s cheeks with her palms and pulls her closer, closer, endlessly closer. She doesn’t dare to pull apart, even just to breathe, for fear of losing Ava before she even has properly got her. Because the point of the urgency on the matter is that Vesper never thought she could have this. She never thought she could have _her_.

So, now that the opportunity has presented itself, like hell she’s going to let go without making the most of it while she has the chance.

Vesper isn’t sure how much time passes during their many kisses-- it may be two minutes or an hour for all she cares, all she can feel is Ava and their impenetrable closeness. She almost misses it how Ava’s big palm slides underneath Vesper’s loose sweater, stroking the flat lines of her stomach and cupping her ribcage, the empty space just underneath her chest-- the touch so careful and light that her breath catches in surprise. 

She’s not wearing a bra, preferring to go without them whenever possible and she thanks herself for the decision now when Ava’s chilly fingertips graze the bottom of the curve of her breast, curious and exploring.

Vesper moans embarrassingly loudly and Ava immediately startles and pulls their lips apart to whisper:

“Detective-- I mean Vesper… are you comfortable with this?”

She sounds so uncertain and worried that Vesper can’t help but laugh breathlessly again, the sound endlessly happy and heated, because how _dense_ can a person be. Vesper is just tall enough to reach to kiss Ava’s nose when she tiptoes, so that is what she does, amused by the way her nose wrinkles at the action.

“Yes, Ava,” Vesper responds, with so much fondness her voice is thick with it, and presses her forehead against Ava’s shirt covered collarbone. Right now, Ava is touching Vesper as if she was some sort of easily spooked animal; her left hand is petting Vesper’s back soothingly, fingers slipping over the slits of her vertebrae, and the other one is clutching the back of Vesper’s neck almost protectively.

"I'm _extremely_ comfortable with this."

Vesper says with an amused tone, reaching out by pulling Ava's arm to thread their fingers together.

And maybe, just maybe, in addition to those words, she wants to say something ridiculous like _I love you._

However, she holds her tongue for now for not wanting to scare Ava away. Everything else but this, Ava’s body and heart against her own, can wait for the aftermath.

Ava’s eyes are sharp, looking for a misguided lie, but after not finding one, she only nods, seemingly satisfied. Vesper smiles up at her, probably looking silly and stupid, but she doesn’t even care, because Ava is finally _here_ with her.

“Just kiss me again,” Vesper murmurs, making Ava smirk faintly before she leans down again and re-captures Vesper’s lips with her own.

Their kisses are now more wild and urgent-- passionate even. There’s something incredibly chaotic about it all, like Ava is finally giving in to her desires after centuries of neglect and when they’re finally unravelled, they're almost indescribable.

In conclusion: the next thing Vesper knows is that Ava has literally shredded off her sweater and has lifted her effortlessly onto the table, kneeling between Vesper’s thighs and mouthing surprisingly hungrily her dripping cunt with Vesper’s ripped lace panties are dangling from her one ankle.

(They were her nicest and most expensive pair, too: seductively red with a pretty bow on the front.)

Vesper realises a little belatedly that she hasn’t shaved in a long while, hasn’t had any reason to, but now she regrets as Ava combs through the slick hair between her legs, getting it out of the way to have a full visible access to Vesper's pussy.

“Shit,” Vesper hisses in realisation. “Ava, I’m sorry-- I look like a fucking mess and--”

“Quiet,” Ava answers, stern if a little breathless herself. She lifts her head to look at Vesper, green eyes looking almost… adoring if Vesper didn't know any better.

Ava looks so good, even (or perhaps especially) between Vesper's legs. She's so focused and determined even now; her cheeks blushing and lips shiny and faintly red from the lipstick Vesper is wearing.

“You are so beautiful,” Ava whispers. The compliment is startling and sounds almost reverent coming from her mouth. It makes Vesper's flush spread across the skin of her whole small frame, a light pink reminder of how fucking gone she is for the other woman.

“Oh my _God_ ,” Vesper groans, way too loudly, when Ava slips her thighs over her stupidly wide shoulders, improving her position under Vesper’s body to get even closer to Vesper’s heated, wet core.

"Even in here," Ava mutters to herself as she parts the outer folds of the other woman's cunt with both of her thumbs to see more clearly her hole and the nub of her clitoris.

Vesper opens her mouth to say something back but then Ava drops a few intimate kisses on Vesper inner thighs, the most sensitive part of her body, and hums happily when Vesper fists her dishevelled hair, trying to get Ava’s attention back to where it was before, but unfortunately, Ava is not so easy to manipulate.

Vesper is pretty sure that losing one’s mind feels like this. “Ava, please,” she says, trying not to whine too obviously but failing at it quite miserably. Admittedly, she's always been… rather loud in bed.

Not that they're anywhere near a bed right now. Vesper clings into the corners of the table so hard it hurts as Ava croaks out an attractive chuckle against her soaking wet pussy that makes her shiver all the way down from her head to her toes and -- 

that is when Ava finally presses her tongue on her sensitive clit and licks it, torturously slow, a few times in a row, before sucking it into her mouth so fast Vesper has to bite her fist not to scream aloud in pleasure.

It’s so good she feels like she's dying.

The next thing Ava does, is pressing her forefinger inside Vesper so carefully it makes Vesper want to weep. There's a distinct noise of _snick snick snick_ as Ava fucks her finger back and forth in the wetness of Vesper's pussy that starts a fire on Vesper's already smouldering face.

_”O-oh.”_

Maybe it’s borderline funny that Vesper never imagined that sex with Ava would be like this. And, embarrassingly enough, she thought about them together like this a lot during nights she couldn’t sleep due to insomnia or nightmares. She thought about how Ava would touch her and whether she would let Vesper touch her in return. Sometimes she fantasized about Ava being rough and possessive, leaving purple teeth marks all over Vesper’s body, fucking her with her fingers so thoroughly that it would leave soaked sheets behind.

But this? This is better.

Because it’s real.

Two more fingers get pushed into Vesper’s cunt and she’s barely even aware of it happening, so out of it she feels like she’s not even existing anymore beyond a bubble of ecstasy. It doesn’t take long for Ava to make her come, a few intense thrusts and Vesper is climaxing so keenly she slides off the table onto Ava’s lap, her waiting arms immediately shielding her close to her still clothed chest.

Then they’re quiet for a long, long moment.

Vesper feels almost boneless in Ava’s embrace, her rabid heart loud inside her chest, her face buried in the root of Ava’s neck, just breathing her in case this never happens again.

I love you, Vesper thinks, not for the first time (and not the last), as Ava pecks her damp forehead and brushes her long mess of a hair behind her back, so they can see each other’s faces clearly without a shroud again.

“Detective. Vesper…” Ava says quietly. Her eyes are serious and a touch a bit sad. “Don’t go back to him.”

Vesper blinks slowly. “What?”

Ava bites her lower lip. Her lips are still smudged with Vesper's lipstick, the sight funny and lovely at the same time. “To the reporter. Your former... partner. Please, don’t go back to him.”

“Ava…”

“Be with me,” Ava says. Swallows. Cups Vesper’s face between her hands and begs: “Be only with me.”

“Ava… you idiot,” Vesper murmurs gently. Ava lifts her eyebrows at the insult, but before she has to comment anything, Vesper continues: “There's no one else I'd rather be with, love.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. ♥ I may write a follow-up for this where they actually, you know, talk about things further (instead of solving things with sex), but we will see. :')
> 
> I'm @antivanrose over at tumblr if you wanna come scream about stupid 900-year-old vampires with me.


End file.
